The Son of Lily Evans
by ifedexit
Summary: Before the death of Lily and James Potter, Lily made a request to Dumbledore. She made the request that if Sirius Black could not raise Harry, Severus Snape would be the one that she would trust to take care of her only son. Severus is absolutely baffled and at first wants to reject the child but perhaps through life and his love for Lily, he can protect Harry Potter.
1. Lily's Last Request

I held Lily in my arms, not daring to hide my misery from the crying baby. I ignored him; he was the sole reason my Lily was like this. He was the reason the light had left her eyes, the reason why her cheeks obtained an ashen color. _I hate you more than I hate your father, you imbecile. _

Sobs racked my body, partially from pain but also from my lack of acceptance. How could my flower be withered when she was only twenty-one? Time passed and I will never know how long I spelt there, just holding the one person who had once brought a light into my life. _You promised to protect them. You are a wicked, foolish, old man._

Somehow, I ended up in Dumbledore's presence after her death. I hadn't wanted to face him, not only because of what had happened but the temptation that would linger in me to curse him once I did see him. "You said you would keep her safe!" I rightfully accused, finding myself in tears once again, despite wanting nothing more than to keep my emotions under control.

"Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person, rather like you, Severus. The boy survives," he insisted, turning from the window.

Even that arrogant low life, James Potter, didn't deserve death. My Lily didn't deserve death. Yet there she was, cold from death and never to say another word. How could I have been so foolish, so blind to the fact that I could have protected her? All I had managed to do was save the one reminder of her.

"He doesn't need protection; the Dark Lord is gone!" My hands shook fiercely, my will to protect another Potter dying as Lily had. _**My **__Lily. _But her angelic voice seemed to reach out to me from the ashes of death and whisper in my ear. '_If you don't protect him, who will?'_

"Sirius was the godfather but the Order is too dangerous for a baby, especially for Harry. Although He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is gone, the remaining Death Eaters have not given up their cause. I know you believe that your friendship with Lily disappeared in your fifth year, but she made a request that I must ask you to fulfill now." His voice had moved from sorrow to something more. I couldn't quite place it, however; not with the pain that resonated inside me, threatened to tear me to pieces.

My mouth opened to speak but failed me for a few moments. "You cannot expect to do her last request. I would have to.." _I would have to accept that she is gone. I would have to accept that she will never see her wish fulfilled._

"She said that if Sirius could not raise the child safely, she wanted you to protect him, treat him as though he were your own. She knows that you were not the man you were when you joined Voldemort's forces. I expect that you will make sure he grows well. Will you do this for her, Severus?"

Almost unwillingly, my eyes closed shut, my wand itching to curse him, to hex him into oblivion. How could he even have the _thought_ of making me raise that foul excuse of a child. And even if I did take him in, I would be cruel beyond all of my means; I would make sure he suffered. "You ask too much. I could never be a good guardian for him. He would be much better off with Remus or perhaps his intentional godfather."

"If you truly loved her.." he began, receiving the idea that he didn't need to continue on from my expression.

I took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again. "I swear on my life, if you use me for some scheme like I know you have in the past. You will not use me again. Do you understand that?"

The Headmaster's worry lines disappeared slowly but not entirely. "I assure you, Severus, this is not some trick. Things in the war are not as desperate as they used to be." As far as Dumbledore is concerned, that is an apology.

"Where is he?" I inquired, looking around for any sign of the boy.

"With Professor McGonagall. I will make sure he is given to you tonight; being as this is slightly unprepared, I can't have a time. Just be ready for the boy."

I sighed, putting a hand on my forehead, trying to lock my emotions back into their rightful place. "He will need a new name. He can never again be called Harry or Potter. Is that clear? If he is to survive, he must be far different than either of them."

"He has her eyes.." he began, his tone beginning to grow doubtful of me.

"Then I will lie!" I practically yelled, my hand moving from its place. My head moved to meet his eyes again, my teeth clenched together. "Do not underestimate one who can hide from even the Dark Lord himself."

Anger surged through me, almost the violent storm to ever pass through my mind. _How_ _**dare**_ _he mention her when he knew that I was barely obtaining my state._ Before her death, I wore my mask against my brokenness like one would wear a cloak on their shoulder in the rain. But the mask was of thin glass and now in shards. How could I piece it back together?

He made no move to argue with me or to insist that I handle myself better. Was it just that he knew I couldn't, that I had spent the last few days staring into nothing? I closed my eyes, Apparating out of the room and finding my own. My hands shook, as well as my body.

And even as the hours passed, as I sat down in a chair to gather myself, I couldn't. I still sat there, quivering as though I had first found my Blossom, laying its withered petals. I would be in charge of Harry James Potter; the son of my rival and the son of my Lily would be in my hands. How on Earth would I take care of him?

But it became very clear the moment that Professor McGonagall placed him into my trembling hands. Even as I wanted to loathe him with all of my being, to lay him upon the concrete in a street of London, I couldn't help but find a comfort in his presence. The loneliness that had gripped me only moments prior to him being surrendered to me seemed to be momentarily forgotten as I looked into his bright, jade green eyes.

Oddly enough, when he smiled at me and grabbed to pull my long, jet black hair, I didn't frown or even raise an eyebrow. But do not mistake me as a man who would smile because of a child; instead, I merely let one corner of my mouth twitch. But it was the same twitch that Harry- no, Lucan Lilianic Snape- caused to form over years of my emotionless state.


	2. I Left Him With You

**It was a bright, but promisingly windy morning; my tattered shoes tore at the ground furiously but found it hard to keep me balanced, almost causing me to fall. But it failed to matter to me. My clothes were already mismatched and ridiculous. Who cared if a stain came onto it? I would be there soon; just as always.**

**I laughed as I saw the flash of vibrant red that lay on the green grass, almost fooling me to think of Christmas presents. It could only be Lily Evans, the only one who didn't make faces towards my clothing or the length of my hair. She would wait for me at our tree.**

"_**Keep her- them- safe. Please."**_

**Laughter bubbled up within me still as I drew closer, hearing the oddest of words in my youthful mind. **"_**And what will you give to me in return, Severus?"**_

**I rounded the trunk of the tree, hoping to mischievously rip her from her daydream. But as I found her, she looked paler than she would even in the days we would lay in the snow; her creamy skin had lost its lively luster.**

"_**In- in return?"**_

**I bent down, carefully reaching out to touch her lips, my fingertips just as desperate as I was to feel the warmth of her breath but I felt nothing. I tried with all of my might to pull her to my chest, to shake her awake, but nothing seemed to be possible. What had happened to her? If she was hurt, where was the blood? Where was the person who had hurt her?**

**Finally, I managed to pull her up, one of my arms circling around her back, my other hand pushing a bundle of stray red hair that had fallen onto her cheek. Her freckles came into view and I could feel the tears beginning to soak my cheeks as I buried my face into her waves, holding her to me. I screamed her name, but no words rang out in all of the tortuous silence.**

**There was a sound of breezy wind, but the one of our tree moving. No, it was a different kind; it left me only to observe myself and the beautiful- dead- witch in my arms. As I caught sight of the smallest, crumpled daisy in her palm, I heard the last word so painfully clear.**

"_**Anything."**_

* * *

I sat up in my bed with a start, my chest heaving as if a hole had been carved into my chest from the inside- out. I lifted a hand to my cheek, feeling a droplet of moisture there. But my agony burned like the flames of Lily's hair as a scream erupted from within my room.

Quickly, I found my wand in the darkness, muttering, "Lumos." There, in the wooden crib that she once owned, was a creature whose lungs could impress a Mandrake root. That creature was Harry bloody Potter. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," I mumbled, sliding out from my sheets and walking to the crib.

His crying still spilled out, gradually getting louder and louder as I came closer. _If I cried this much, it's a wonder my father didn't drown me._ "Oh... There, there. Don't... make that noise."

He stopped for a moment, looking up to me with eyes that were only hers; no, they did not belong to him in an shape or form. But as we looked at each other, his mouth opened once again and the bellowing of before continued. _This thing is relentless! _

However, in the darkness of my mind, a voice reached me with a piece of wisdom that had confused me the times Lily had forced me to play pathetic muggle games. **"It's a baby, Severus. When she cries, you pick her up and talk to her. Go on." **Needless to say, I protested against the idea as a child. However, I now decided to take her advice for the better of not only her son but for my ears as well.

I picked him up, finding that he became slightly more hushed but not quite silent. I resorted to victimizing my memory to his thief, letting myself hum. I wasn't quite sure the song, but it was one that my Lily had hummed often. When I had showed her the things in what soon became our place, she would lay upon the grass near the pond and let the melody carry in the air without her voice. Whether it was to avoid silence or just her being happy, I would never know.

The wails of the Chosen One began to lessen as I held him closer to my chest, continually decreasing as I stroked his hair. Letting my mind wander, I let myself imagine that I was with her, that she was in the other room and her laughter called out to me. But Harry could never know of her; he wouldn't be safe if he just knew her name. Surprisingly, out of all the responsibilities of this child, this would be the easiest.

But then there were the rest of the other duties attached to taking care of a human being. I barely knew how to take care of myself! What had Lily been thinking? Had she been drunk when she requested that I take care of a _child_? If I could barely keep my beloved books from falling apart at the seams, how in Merlin's sake was I supposed to make sure he would be fed at all times and not kill himself with his wandering?

Perhaps I could ensnare one of the female teachers at Hogwarts to do it.. They all loved children but not if they were eleven through eighteen. But once again, condemnation came down upon my thoughts. _**'Severus, who will take care of Harry? I didn't leave him with Sirius or Professor McGonagall; I left him with you.'**_

_Lily, the only light in a mind damaged by darkness. _Even in my own mind, I knew what she would say. Perhaps it was from knowing her since we were nine years old. "You aren't fair," I mumbled, looking down to meet her eyes, but not her face. It was beyond my comprehension that I could become accustomed to seeing **precisely** her eyes but being meet with someone else's features. They were the features of the man whose only talent was that he could boil my blood with anger.

James Potter. That arrogant, deceptive, loathsome cockroach! How had my Blossom been able to stand him, to even be near him, knowing how he had treated her not too many years ago? Oh, how I would've _loved_ to hex him; many spells that I had created were with him in mind.

My hair was once again pulled on, causing part of my mouth to curl up slightly; whether it was in disgust or something else, I wasn't quite sure. "Potter, did you do this to your mother or am I purely special?"

He smiled at me, now preoccupied with attempting to fit his fist into his mouth. As I held him carefully, I inspected through the things Professor McGonagall had given me with the tip of my wand. They were undoubtedly Lily's; there were some bottles of shampoo and for milk, a powder I had yet to find the use of, and something that seemed to be a replacement for cloth underwear for children. Evidently, they were called "Pampers."

Shaking my head at the touch of muggle born things, I watched him look around the room before leaning down and picking up a container of "No-Tears" shampoo. _Perhaps I need it for another reason. Does this shampoo magically keep him quiet?_ His eyes searched everything that had been given light, even though most of the room was still dark. Then his head turned back to me and he did that _disgusting_ thing children do. He _**giggled.**_

Almost as if it were pure instinct, my nose wrinkled, displeasure with the being all too obvious. "I suppose the thing to do is change you, isn't it? But how to do it properly.." I murmured, trying my best to think of a clever way to find out how to change him without asking someone else. I muttered the counter- curse for the light bursting from my wand before the solution came to me. "Legilimens."

_**"Harry, Momma loves you; Daddy loves you. Harry, be safe. Be strong." **_Lily's voice was hushed as she was crouched by her child's crib side but even so, it was almost too loud. I should've braced myself before going into his mind but it soon passed as another wave of pain threatened to drown me.

She stood above him, smiling down as she made him laugh. _**"Don't cry, darling. You'll be out of this changing station before you know it."**_

Being the fool I had always been, I took a step towards her, reaching out to touch her hair. My fingertips went through her, the memory continuing without me. I paid attention to her hands movements, letting the memory sink into my mind. How I was going to repeat it in the world outside of his memories became lost to me.

She then picked him up, seeing relief in her son's eyes. Once again, the memory swirled into another one, now revealing James picking up the same boy. Potter's little spawn became somewhat of an airplane, the sounds being made with his father's lips.

Jealousy hit me but not in the sense I wanted to admit; he had a father and mother who loved him to the point of dying to keep him safe. My parents on the other hand, could've cared less whether I died or not. My father had often blamed me for being the reason for his failures or missed opportunities.

_Life isn't fair, Severus. Let it go; another Potter isn't worth more bitterness. _I exited his mind easily, finding that he didn't have to block me, nor did he know how. But in this revelation, I discovered something entirely new: I never wanted to go in there again.

"Let's get you washed up, Potter. There's no reason to be more filthy than your father." I observed that his expression hadn't changed in the slightest. Rolling my eyes at his attempt to still fill his mouth up with his hand, I walked out of my room, ending up in the kitchen. _Children. Who on Earth decided they were a good idea?_

Sitting him down in one side of the sink, I turned on the water so that it began to fill up on the other side. In the time that it took to wait, I began to figure out the buttoning contraptions on his romper, eventually prying it from his body. I made sure to be as delicate as possible, knowing that over the years of Lily's absence, I had grown rougher not only inside but towards others.

I then spent time figuring out how to remove the "Pampers," managing to remove those in the time that it took to halfway fill the other half of the sink. Picking up the now naked infant, I set him into the water, checking his expression to see if the water was too cold or hot. For several moments, we stared at each other, neither one of us making the first move.

Suddenly, almost as if I'd imagined it, his hand withdrew from the water and disappeared into it again. The water followed his command, flying onto my face and causing my eyelids drop in controlled frustration. I lifted my hand to my face, wiping away the liquid with a deep breath. "Mister Potter, I assure you that splashing me will accomplish you nothing. I suggest that you-"

My sentence was cut off by the frenzy I seemed to create with my words; he began to practically empty his bath water onto me. _Why Lily? Why in Merlin's name would you give him to me?_

Clearing my throat, I was prepared to yell until my lungs burst from the seams. However, as many times before, not all of my plans ended up as I had intended them to. "Stop," I said calmly but still managing to be firm. Even in my failure to be a strict man with him, my victory came when the actions ceased to repeat themselves.

In the wake of reopening my eyes, Harry was revealed, sitting perfectly still. I began to wet his hair, not quite looking at him. I feared that not only would I see myself once again but that I would see Lily in the vibrant eyes that I had loved.

The oddest action happened, however, when I began to wet his hair. He seemed to lean into my touch; it wasn't overwhelming but light. He took his turn in closing his eyes as I pushed up my sleeves; had he been this way with Lily?

I poured the "No- Tears" solution into his hair, scrubbing it in gently as one of my hands rested against his back to keep him steady. I wasn't sure why I knew to take extra precaution but it seemed to be instinct. After making sure that any filth that had built up in his hair but also along his body; dust from the ceiling had landed on his arms and legs, now collected in the bottom of my sink.

Ensuing the task of cleansing his skin and hair of suds, I finally met his eyes. I saw not only the one I had lost in them but a reflection of a man who had become a mere shell. My eyebrows furrowed together before I closed my eyes and looked away. _No. Control your emotions, Severus; remember your discipline. _Wiping my face of emotion, I inhaled painful breath, my skin tightening around my throat.

Eventually, I would have to let my walls down; I would have to love him the way I knew Lily would. Even with his father's blood, he still had his own share of her. If I had my way, he would grow up to be as kind as she was and as intelligent as she was. _I promise I will protect him, Lily Evans. I will not fail him like I have failed you._

* * *

_Author's Note: _

_With a lot of thinking, I've gone back and forth with this story. I'm tempted to skip forward every three years, to show how Severus has changed (but still remained the same) as well as Harry. But a part of me not only believes that would be lazy but it would rush things. I'm not saying my pace has to be snail slow but in Severus's life, I'm sure that just a year seemed like a lifetime. So, in loo of that, does anyone have any suggestions? I'm open to almost everything! Feel free to also criticize my writing (nicely, if you will) so that I can become a better writer._


	3. We Are More than Collateral Damage

_Author's Note: _

_I've come to the decision to make it three to four events in a years time that are picked out for Harry instead of skipping three years. Thank you to those who have helped me make the decision and I love all of you that not only have read my story but support it! I hope I have done well in my portrayal of Severus. He doesn't quite love Harry yet; he still struggles inwardly with wanting to care (and truly caring in the ways that matter) yet he also deals with resentment. He does understand that one way or another, Lily still had high chances of dying but he also blames himself for it. If you all have comments or suggestions, I'm open to them! Enjoy!_

* * *

For the first few weeks of Harry's first year with me, there were almost too many questions to bear, especially from the Malfoy's. A popular inquiry was how I had even accumulated a child. My response was firewhiskey, a lonely night, and an old flame had created an infant.

It was then questioned why an infant was left with me, to which I stated that the girl was getting married and didn't want a child to hold her back. I had cleverly disguised the scar on the boy's head with a glamouring charm, also giving him blue eyes instead of green; they looked almost grey, in fact. Fortunately for the Slytherin part of myself, I lied a little too well. No one doubted me that I had a child in the earlier days of November in 1980.

Changing him and feeding him had become a boring chore but he worked his way into more solid foods, thankfully. However, I found that I did enjoy one part of everything. When I held him, despite his hair pulling, he seemed to respond to me in a kind way that I hadn't felt in years. I hadn't felt the same tenderness since- well, since I caused _**her**_ to leave. He looked and smiled at me as if there was no one in the world he wanted to see more.

Then there was teaching him to use his legs to walk. He struggled quite a bit with, most likely because of my inexperience with children, but also due to his chubby legs. Yet, in him, there was a strength and determination when he did try. _In him, there was_ _Lily. _When he fell, he refused to cry; he would wait for a few moments before moving to his feet again and beginning to take some steps once again. _If only Lily had seen him. _

With the fading of the year, I decided that I needed the truth more than I wanted comfort. It was too easy to sleep at night and think that Sirius- a "blood traitor" and oppressor alike- had given up Lily and James to Voldemort. No matter how close he had been to them, it was simply too simple for him to save his own skin before theirs. It was too easy to believe that the person I hated the third most on my list had caused the amount of destruction he had.

Nothing _**truly**_ held me back from visiting the bastard but I made excuses. How was I look into the eyes of the man like himself when I barely could have when I was a child? I rather spent my year with Harry, teaching him words so I wouldn't have to endure his gurgling sounds. He spoke small, little phrases; but there was one phrase I couldn't handle. I wasn't sure how he'd come across it or if he heard me mumble it somewhere but it was _her _name.

It was in early October, the leaves were melting into a bright orange and dying to a dark brown. I held him in one of my arms as I fed him, sighing when his hand curled around my hair to express a desire for the strawberries I held in my other hand. "Lily," he whispered, causing my eyes to widened.

"What?" My voice shook almost violently, as if someone had rattled me for minutes on end. "What did you say?"

He gained a smile as the word slurred from his mouth again. "Lily," he repeated, pointing to the bowl. _How stupid are you? Where did you learn of this word?_

Had I dreamt that he was saying her name or was it truly happening? My grasp on the bowl tightened to ensure that it wouldn't fall from my hands and crash onto the floor. _How do you know her name? _"No, you dult," I practically hissed, shaking my head. "It's strawberries."

Harry's expression showed that he wasn't quite sure what I had said but he knew he was being insulted. The corner of my mouth twitched apologetically as I drew in a slow but deep breath. I couldn't tell him about Lily. For one, he wouldn't understand the majority of what I was saying; two, he would become unsafe. He would use her name whenever he felt like it, giving people the clue that he was lying about himself to them. _I wish you'd been given to Petunia- well, not even you deserve that kind of hell._

After holding another strawberry out to him, he smiled, showing his teeth to me proudly. His still somewhat chubby hands closed around it as if it were the last precious thing he would receive. Even in the smallest action that would seem adorable to anyone else, I discovered that I was annoyed by it. Was that how much I despised him or was it something else?

For a moment, I let myself venture into thinking of what his life would've been like if he had gone to live with Lily's sister. Petunia had not only hated me during my adolescent years but seemed to hate her own sister as well. There were several times I had given her a reason to hate me, however; I was quick with my tongue whenever she decided her divine right was to make me seem less than her. The hatred was quite mutual, in fact.

Despite my best efforts, my mind submersed me in a memory that had possibly given away what I felt for Lily. _My Lily._

"_**She's jealous; she's ordinary and you're special," I commented, turning my head to look at the redhead next to me. Her lips seemed to raise into a smile before her kindness caught up with her.**_

"_**That's mean, Severus." Her eyes gave away something that her scolding voice did not; she was grateful to be seen as special by **__**someone. **__**But then again, she didn't seem confident that she was truly special. Not in the way that I knew.**_

_**I rolled my dark eyes at her, focusing them once again on her vibrant, jade green orbs. "It's true and you know so yourself." Even though I wasn't angry or shouting at her, my voice was firm; she was special. She already had more control over magic than most likely any witch I would encounter any time soon. **_

My eyes adjusted to the fact that I wasn't near a pond or next to Lily but her spawn. The raven-haired boy still gnawed on his food. My days of constantly thinking of her had yet to lessen themselves, mainly because I had to look into her eyes every moment I was with Harry. _They'll never be his._

* * *

The 31st of October seemed to fly towards me like a hurtling object from the sky. On any ordinary day, I would've been able to look at Harry much easier than I did now but on this one, all I could see was his mother. Not his mother who was smiling and full of life; no, I wasn't that lucky. I saw the one that lay dead on the floor, waiting to be found by whoever passed the threshold.

After suffering the day silently with him, I gave him over to McGonagall, hoping more or less that she would take care of him much better than I could. She looked absolutely thrilled to see him again after all the time that had passed; upon him walking in me with, she'd scooped him into her arms and proceeded to make sure he would laugh for an eternity. I left him there, taking the long walk to my next destination as opposed to Apparating.

_I have to see her; just for a little while. _

My boots left dents in the rain-softened ground as I walked, reminding me of the storm that had welcomed me at Godric's Hollow. I didn't raise my head to look at what was ahead of me; there was no one to greet anyhow.

Toward a large section of trees, a gravestone shown in the moonlight, greeting me as if were an old friend. I found his name first, remembering how I'd sidestepped him; I hadn't felt all that terrible for him. His life was in exchange for Lily's anyhow; there was no way to avoid it. _It should've just been you and your little spawn, James. I would've even been better off with just __**you.**_

But then I found her name. Lily Potter. I only needed the first name to sink to my knees, to feel the same pain that I had kept locked away for so long. My hand outstretched to trace her name, a tremble running through my body as I did.

"I wish it wasn't you; I would've given anything for it to be anyone but you…" I whispered, pressing my forehead to her side of the stone. The other side was just as abandoned as he had been after his death; but hers was beginning to take the warmth from me, just as she had that night.

_You would've hated me if I had told Dumbledore to hide you and only you. I should've requested it since you hated me anyway. I should've let James be the only casualty; his death would've given the sacrifice that yours would've. _But as I thought upon it, I faced the idea that I was an idealist for her.

The sacrifice had been pure because she'd been given the option to move away; the Dark Lord had respected my wishes. _I hate him more than I hate Potter; I will stop at nothing until Harry kills the Dark Lord. I can promise that._

Even my worst memory seemed to be dull and out of focus to the ones of happiness I had shared with Lily. _**My **_Lily. "I killed you." My mind ventured back to the moment that I had been a faithful servant and given the prophecy to the Dark Lord. _You were a foolish boy; a foolish, selfish, desperate man._

"Haunt me. Take any form, drive me mad with insanity, but don't leave me," I begged, feeling the grief that had overtaken me for so long. "Don't go where I can't follow."

It was too late to beg of her to come back, too late to go and save her from the wrath that would come her way from one I had so stupidly served.

So rather than say more, I let myself fall apart, managing to pick myself up from dirt than now stained my clothes. After creating lilies for her, I cast her one last glance to her. "I'll take care of him; I promise."

I reconciled myself with her son, finding that he lay asleep in McGonagall's lap. He looked peaceful, as if his mind could no longer recall seeing his mother giving her life for him. _You're entirely too lucky._

* * *

Eventually, I did pay a visit to Petunia, Apparating to her house with a smirk on my face. I knocked on the door as I held Harry's hand, looking down to him for a solitary moment. He lifted his other hand and pointed to my arm, remaining silent as he did so. After nodding, I bent down and felt his own arm rest on my shoulder, my lower arm being placed under his knees.

I stood up once again, holding him to my body gently but in an odd fashion; it was always as if I wanted him to be protected from the woman that lie before the threshold of the house I stood in front of. I rung the doorbell, keeping my eyes focused ahead of me. Harry's breathing was now upon my neck as he rested his head on my shoulder; it was almost as if he loved me. _You fool; I can't love you. Your mother forced me into this. She knew my weakness._

A gust of wind exited the door before I saw the wretched woman beyond the door. A disgusted look came onto her face, resulting in her managing to look more unattractive, before she began to speak. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Instantly, my nose wrinkled in her direction before my lips settled into a smirk. "Hello, Petunia; wonderful day outside, isn't it? Rather warm for my liking but it's nice, nevertheless."

"What do you want, you greasy bat? There has to be another reason you left your cave; you wouldn't just come to talk to me about the weather."

She stood in front of the door, blocking the entrance, something that should've bothered me but failed to. "I've come to talk about your nephew. You can either let me in or you can bet that I'll give a reason for your neighbors to look this way." It was somewhat of a rude comment but it made no difference to me. Why would it? I hated her and she hated me; things had always been that way.

"You wouldn't dare," she hissed, her eyes showing a fierce fire behind them. They seemed to bulge out of her head as I gave her a glimpse of my wand. She closed the space between opening of the door and myself, almost as if it would prevent my entrance.

I gave the slightest tap of my wand and a plastered smile, seeing the roots of her peachtree beginning to uproot themselves from the earth in my peripherals. After a soft gasp, I turned to see that the tree had begun to throw its fruit at the house across the street. Harry, seemingly knowing that she was evil, began to laugh at the sight.

"Get in here and stop this madness!" the Dursley shrieked, moving so that I could enter into her home. After giving my wand another tap, the tree returned to its roots and became lifeless once again. Upon this, I walked through, looking around to the brightly painted walls around me; yellows that would rival that of a painted eggs at Easter and greens that would be described as mint.

She slammed the door shut, glaring as she passed me. Her eyes, however, fell on the infant in my arms, almost as if she knew he couldn't be mine. _For once in her life, she's right. What has the world come to? _"Is that…?"

Deciding it better to answer her than not, I nodded, looking down to him as well. "I've made a few changes to him; it was necessary."

"What do you mean changes?" she demanded. _Oh, you haven't changed in the slightest._

"His name, his eyes, the scar; is that all or must I give you a pamphlet on his allergies as well?" My eyes had moved to her and I searched for something other than anger in her eyes.

The corner of her mouth raised, almost as if it was attached to a string and being lifted up. "You didn't just lose a lover that night; I lost a sister."

Quickly but gently, I set Harry down and let him run off into her living room to what seemed to be an overly pudgy child. "She wasn't my lover and for you to imply that when you know what I felt for her.. To think that she actually cared for you at one time is miraculous."

Her expression changed for a moment, almost as if I had truly hurt her. "Didn't she hate you when she died? Didn't she want you to stay as far away from her as you could get?" She half-smiled at the idea of it. _I'd love to show you how the Cruciatus Curse works you insolent, daft woman. _

"Obviously not; she would've given her son to someone else if that were true."

I battled with the same questions in my mind. _Didn't she tell me that she had chosen her path and I had chosen mine? Didn't she say that her friends didn't know why she talked to me and she had begun to see why they questioned it? Didn't she promise to be the first to hex me if I betrayed the Order?_

But as always, I shut the questions out; there would be a time for that when I was alone again. There were too many things at hand that were more important. "But I'm going to make a request of you today. I haven't asked you because I simply haven't had the time to stop by." _Sarcastic lying; wonderful job, Severus. She definitely won't think you're lying._

"What do you want now? Didn't you take enough when Lily went to that freak school of yours?" Petunia spat, crossing her arms over her chest. _You make it so easy to hate you; perhaps Dumbledore wouldn't mind the slightest tip of my wand.._

Taking a deep breath, I glanced to the one I called my son. "If anyone comes by here and asks anything of the Potter family, you must tell them they are all dead. Do you understand me? If he is to remain safe and you want to keep alive yourself, you'll lie. Should you fail me, I will personally come and wipe your family from this Earth. And once I'm done with them, I'll make sure you can't die until it is your time."

The problem with my threats was that they were real. There was a reason being a Death Eater had become awkwardly natural to me; under all the layers, I was cruel and of my father's bitter making. It had been so easy to slip into the Dark Arts, to whisper hexes underneath my breath as I was alone in my secret spot..

"What more do you want from me, Snape?" Petunia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

After thinking for a moment, I sighed, looking down to her as if I were higher than she was. "Convince your husband that your nephew's remains have been found; if Death Eaters arise to their cause again, the first person they will hunt down is you. I also ask that should there be the occasion that they do hunt you down, you must be willing to die for him."

Petunia's mouth opened widely in shock, mocking more of something she wanted to spit out from her mouth. "You want me to die for that.. that freak? No, I refuse to!"

"I have done everything in my power to make it impossible for him to be found but I can't stop them if they reveal that he isn't who I have claimed him to be," I hissed, glaring at her. _Was she so tied up into her own life that she had failed to notice that the remaining Death Eaters still lurked behind the shadows? Did she know that they would be rewarded for bringing the Chosen One to the Dark Lord if he returned?_

"Why does it have to be me?" Her already thin lips were pressed into a flat line that almost failed to exist. _You're her sister! If you want to act as bitter about it as you do, at least agree to this. You are a pathetic excuse for what should've become of the Evans bloodline._

"You're his family, whether you like it or not. If you ever cared for your sister, at any moment of your life, you'll agree to this," I replied, scavenging her dark brown pools.

Ever so slowly, she nodded, looking away before pointing to her door. "Now leave and don't come back. I may keep his secret safe but I refuse to let my family come to danger because of your kind."

* * *

Christmas came much earlier than I thought possible. Harry's hair had surprisingly grown much faster than I believed it would, prompting me to get his hair cut. Part of it was that he looked better with shorter hair but another part was because of how I was raised. As a child, my mother was too busy attempting to stay safe to worry whether or not I was taken care of.

As much as I loved her, the other half of my parents could not have the same thing said for them. My father, although he worked, was too busy finding faults in not only my mother but myself to do much of anything else. So, in the end, it was my responsibility to make sure I didn't starve to death and make sure that I was halfway clean in my time at home. Needless to say, I was better off at Hogwarts than I was at home.

But along with the new haircut, I bought him gifts that were somewhat things I believed he would like. One of them, to which he enjoyed more than the rest, was a stuffed owl. I wanted to give him a hint of Hogwarts in his life but not too much at one time. It was almost pure white but had little tufts of black spots on it.

Then there were the presents from the rest of the Order. I was forced to attend a party (and I do mean quite literally forced. McGonagall held a wand in my face and threatened more than enough to land her in Azkaban with some of her former students.) It wasn't that the party wasn't nice; it was far more than I would've ever been able to afford to attend to on a regular basis.

It was the mere fact that I had yet to develop social skills. With my past experiences in having a friend, I never had trouble keeping her entertained. We always knew more than the other did in certain things so we would attempt to beat the other. It had been incredible to watch just how much a muggle-born knew, but she was far too smart to be labeled where all the other wizards had been.

Harry had been showered with gifts but ones that read "Lucan Snape". They knew the consequences of using his true name. Remus Lupin attempted conversation with me but it had ended up with me calling him "a dog who has begged for things with his tail between his legs."

Dumbledore had scolded me, as well as McGonagall. Remus had been one of her favorites or so it had appeared when I was almost murdered at the hands of her little Marauder's. She'd seem to swat away the idea as if it were a fly; however, when she learned that I had finally stood up for myself with a hex of my own, it was the end of the world. Granted, it was a curse that could've killed him but I was closer to death than James was; he had a cut on the cheek.

McGonagall still gave me the look of pure hatred, despite my attempt to prove that I was not only worthy of the Order but worthy of understanding. I had earned the spot of having her point a wand at me more than once but I didn't understand how she'd managed to become so bitter. Was it simply because I refused to praise James, even after his death.

_You better get used to me; I'm going to be teaching Potions in two years. Dumbledore also said that you can't do anything to change his mind either._

I left surprisingly late, mainly because of all the affection that was passed around to Harry. He would be spoiled until tomorrow. For now, he lay against my chest, content to be sleeping. His gifts were in my other hand, other than the stuffed owl that he had obtained from me.

Eventually, I managed to pry him from me (not without hair pulling, mind you), setting him into his crib. My dark eyes watched him, taking in his features as he slept; it was odd, how much he resembled his mother. Not in looks wise but the peace that had come onto his face was just like his mother's. It reminded me of the nights when Lily and I had tapped on each other's windows; once we had calmed the other down, we slipped under the covers and were found with our bodies straight but our head's facing the others.

"Sleep well, Chosen One," I whispered, covering him carefully with his blanket. As he curled up under it, I let the corner of my mouth finally rise to the occasion, discovering that it was less forced than it had been when I had first faced him; we were becoming more than collateral damage.


	4. Cats and Dogs Hate Me

_Author's Note:_

_I don't think anyone knows how hard it was to write this chapter. I've included Sirius Black but not in the way that most would expect. We also see a slightly darker side of Severus; I thought it was important because it shows that even someone who shows few emotions, he still is unbelievably human. I know it's been a chapter long over due and it's very long, so enjoy!_

* * *

The beginning of February promised the seal of winter's deadly kiss. Several infants had died in Spinner's End, and even if I couldn't stand the little boy who occupied the same room as myself, I made sure that he was warm throughout the night. I couldn't risk the Boy Who Lived dying from a cold; the irony would've been unfathomable.

_**"You don't have to stay with me, Sev," a voice spoke at my side, a pair of green eyes moving to meet mine. Her dark, red curls fell from their place on her cheek, toppling to her shoulder lazily. "It wasn't planned and it's too cold for what you're-"**_

_**I rolled my eyes, looking at her with a stern expression. "You and I both know that I most likely can't put on enough clothes to be warm enough. I'm staying; snow hasn't ever bothered me and I doubt it will now." Despite seeing the smile that spread on her lips, I could feel that my body trembled from the wind that blew under my jacket and nipped at my skin. But even when I could feel it, it didn't seem as real as the warmth that had taken over me, warmth that could only be provided from Lily herself.**_

The black haired nuisance constantly fought me on wearing a sweater and jacket over it; if I could manage to get a hat on him, I considered it an astounding accomplishment.

Winter was irritating from him being able to walk properly; he brought in snow from his shoes or just in his hands to throw at me. I could understand the once joyful notion but never the less, I found him to be nothing but annoying. Every once in awhile, I would throw a snow ball back but not with my hands; I had a wand for a reason, didn't I?

* * *

Upon request through owl, Dumbledore had been given one visit from wherever he dwelled to see Harry. It was too risky to do more than one visit; if Lucius Malfoy had seen me associating with Dumbledore on any occasion, it would've looked suspicious.

Dumbledore had appeared, using magic to do so, and leaving his shadow to hover behind me in the kitchen. I caught sight of it and spilt coffee onto my hand, feeling the unpleasant sting on my skin. _I would love to inform you that this coffee is hot and __**very**_ _spillable. _His eyes, somewhat enlarged by his half-moon glasses, searched my face before chuckling. "I see that you are startled."

"Most people understand that the front door is a common entry," I shot back, sending down my cup and turning my gaze to him. I could feel the muscles under my skin morphing into ones of natural hatred; as far as I was concerned, he was no more than a manipulative man who knew the power he had over me. With only six words, he could have me locked away in Azkaban with no consideration as to what lengths as I had gone to spy for the Order.

Dumbledore scoffed, his blue eyes shining with something unnameable beyond his glasses. "Where is he? I assume you haven't murdered him yet."

My glare would have peeled the skin off of a thousand men; I was not as humored by his remarks as he was. "He's in the living room."

Just as the tall man before me moved to exit my kitchen, my hand was on his shoulder, gripping him tight enough to assure him that I had to speak to him. "Do not treat me like your precious Marauders. I am not them; I do not find your jokes humorous, nor your insistence of this situation. If I am to continue to watch after him, you will address me formally, as you did when I was.. one of them."

He sighed and nodded slightly, part of his smile disappearing. "As you wish, Severus; do not forget this when you do want my wit." _As if I could miss that part of you; it always came in handy when you wanted to spare a group of Gryffindors punishment._

With that statement, he was off, taking the small, black-haired boy into his arms and grinning down at him. I suppose he should claim to professionally have two faces; however, I was one of the few with the "privilege" of seeing his other face. Rather than a privilege, it was a punishment.

Laughing erupted from the other room and for a moment, I was concerned. It was not an unusual sound in the house but I had no idea Dumbledore was capable of causing joy in another human being. After all, I always had considered him a manipulative man who would convince one to do _**his**_ dirty work, then blame them when _**his**_ plan had turned sour.

Part of me wanted Harry as far away from Dumbledore as possible, to keep him from becoming a little pawn in the Headmaster's game, but even I knew that the moment James had died, he had become a way out for the wizarding world. Even before James and Lily's death, the boy was sure to be a key element; it was only pure hope that convinced me that he would not face the same fate that they had.

* * *

The time fell to nearly mid-summer when Professor McGonagall had finally requested to see me. I took into consideration that she would not hesitate to kill me with any other curse; if it was not an Unforgivable, there would be no trace of the spells that would send me to my death.

What I was not prepared for was the surprising pleasantness she faced me with. She opened the door to her office, one I had visited plenty of times in attempts to make a certain Gryffindor get along with me; however, her plan failed in the fact that she wanted me to apologize. I would have nothing of it; as far as I was concerned, I had every right to hex the absolute hell out of him. I would _**never**_ apologize to _Potter._

Underneath a pointed black hat, a wrinkled face greeted me; even since my graduation from Hogwarts, she had aged quite a bit. There was no warmth in her expression but it was evident that any other emotion towards me (other than blankness) was hidden well. "Severus."

I stepped from the shadows, releasing Harry's hand carefully. I didn't have to look into a mirror to know that I had become several shades paler than I naturally was; the blood had been drawn from my face, as if to compensate for the lack of blood moving in my system. "Professor," I greeted, meeting her eyes. They were green but far from the green that Lily's were. They were dull with age and something that reflected back at me: heartbreak.

"Sit," she ordered, the tip of her hat pointing to the chair in front of her. With the nod of my head, I sat, my gaze fixated on the scratch marks on the front of her desks; it was most likely from children moving their shoes against it enough to create the scuff marks. Either way, looking at that was better than looking at her. "Are you going to look at me or are you going to keep your head down your entire teaching career?"

I scoffed, my dark eyes shifting to hers. I held my tongue as a way to keep the peace that existed between us; the last thing I needed was for her to have a reason to go against me. "Thank you, Professor; I can always count on you for the moments of belittlement that I have missed from my earlier years." I took a deep breath, clasping my hands together. "Though I did not say it all those years ago, I'm sorry that you lost them."

Her lips twitched at the side, her eyes giving off the smallest edges of pain. "Of course; I hope her death was the wake up call you needed. If one life can't spared, it shouldn't be in vain," she replied, sighing softly. Her expression was fueled by hatred and I knew who it was aimed towards. However, that did not excuse her of claiming _**Lily**_ to be my only reason for change.

"Do you honestly believe that you're the only one that lost anything? Has your mind failed grasp that I'm stuck with a reminder of.." My teeth gritted, my thumb adding pressure to my other hand to contain all the things I wanted to say. "You weren't the only one who lost someone they cared about because Sirius Black was a traitor. And even with that loss, the boy is alive; which, in the end, is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Professor McGonagall scoffed in my direction, her eyebrows raising in surprise. "I find it odd to hear a complaint from you Severus, at least this soon after the events; I didn't think you'd bring up for a few years more at least."

"This soon?" I demanded, my tone mocking hers. "_**This soon? **_Because of one of your formerly favorite children, she's _**dead**_! _**Your precious James is dead**_!" I took a few deep breaths, my chest heaving with how my voice had risen; never had I yelled at a woman in such a way. Never had I been provoked to yell in such a way but it did not mean that I would sit there and stay silent.

For a few moments, she simply stared at me, still in the state of shock. I glanced over to Harry and saw that he looked terrified of me; there had only been one other time that I had seen him so scared and it even then, it was not quite the same thing.

I cleared my throat, standing up slowly and moving my gaze to her once again. "I believe it is best that I leave now," I commented, nodding in her direction before moving to where Harry had been playing. I held my hand out for him and sighed in a distorted sense of relief that he took it firmly.

I glanced once more McGonagall, discovering her gaze was still set in front of her. She appeared unhinged, like someone had murdered someone before her. She was experiencing the Potter's deaths all over again, undoubtedly.

No, I hadn't been fair but it must have completely escaped her notice that life wasn't fair; why should I be?

* * *

****The Dark Lord circled me, his wand at his side but hostility missing from his features. "It is clear now that you are a consistent servant, Severus. The question that remains to be answered is if you are a loyal one."****

**"I am, my Lord; I have always been faithful to you and to our cause," I replied, confidence in my voice. My posture was still, proving that I was indeed telling the truth. Most who lied to the Dark Lord switched from foot to foot, giving other tells to their nervousness as well.**

**"Then prove it to me."**

**The set of double doors from the West Wing opened and I turned to face them. Two tall silhouettes began to walk forward, their faces slowly being brought to life. Eventually, they were no longer dark figures but men that I recognized from the circle; I took notice to the woman they seemed to be dragging along with them.**

**Her skin was nearly a snow white, coated with a layer of sweat, though she shivered. Her arms were marked with red and purple marks, making an angry pattern. On top of the marks, a layer of dirt was nearly everywhere, including her attire.**

**The men threw her in front of me, their expressions morphing into those of disappointment when she barely caught herself. She rose her head slightly to keep it from touching the floor, her entire face spoke of heavy exhaustion. She had been fighting against them, against **_**us**_ **for weeks, or so it appeared.**

**Finally, her face was revealed from the wet, dark, red, locks that surrounded her face; I knew why she had survived. For one, it was Lily; she was defiant in nearly every way. But there was the other reason that I knew had kept her alive for so long.**

**She was meant for me to kill. She was my test of loyalty.**

**Air became scarce in my lungs and I found that if I was not so guarded, I would've collapsed right next to her. "My Lord, what does this have to do with my loyalty?" I questioned, hoping that for once in my life, I was completely and utterly wrong about his thought process.**

"**Make her suffer. I'll kill her on my own but you? You must **_**show her**_ **that she is not like us, that she is an **_**abomination**_**." His red eyes pierced me in a way that told me that both of us would regret my decision to not go forth and hurt her.**

**The men disappeared once again, as did the Dark Lord, but Lily stayed where she was. Her right leg was in a position that suggested that she was going to sit like an Indian, but her left leg was stretched out behind her, still holding some of her weight. "Well?" she demanded, her emerald orbs sending a tremble through my hands. "So this is what you wanted? This is what you would **_**kill**_ **for? Doing **_**this**_ **is worth more than your soul?"**

**I was slightly horrified with myself when she put it that way; she wasn't lying either. I had read all of the duties on being a Death Eater, what was expected of me, but never in a thousand years, could I have imagined that I would have to carry out all the responsibilities. Never did it cross my mind that she could be in front of me and that I would be her preparation for death.**

**Rather than answer her, I simply stared, catching the thin layer of dirt and focusing on the blotches it left behind on her skin, the trails that were created by men like me, loyal men of the Dark Lord.**

"**I should've known," she whispered, hunching over slightly so that her hands rested on the tile, her back giving proof to shredded clothing. "I should've known you were a coward."**

"**And you think being with the Order is brave? You think resisting the Dark Lord is **_**brave**_**?" I shot back, my eyebrows furrowing together. I wasn't angry with her but I would not back down. Weakness was not an option for me now.**

**She scoffed at me, seemingly readying herself for what was to come, but saying nothing more. She simply kept her gaze on the floor and her teeth clenched, baring them as if she were an animal.**

**I withdrew my wand from my trouser pocket, lifting it so that it appeared to rest on her figure. I couldn't think of more to say; there was nothing left **_**to**_ **tell her now. Although I thought of a few things I wanted her to know, I had to keep them to myself. "Crucio," I said softly, my gaze disattached from her form but rather at the floor next to her.**

**Nothing happened. She didn't move, her form still hunched over, ready for pain, and she'd been disappointed. Her head rose and the expression she wore was unnameable; I'd never her make a face such as the one she wore. "You can't do it, can you?"**

**Her voice had been warm but no louder than the flutter of a moth's wings. She knew that I couldn't do it, but to **_**whom**_ **was the part that she did not understand. She couldn't know that I stood in this very room, nearly twice a week, and made others suffer. She didn't know that she was the only exception.**

**I could feel a gaze burning into my back but the evidence lie in the shift of Lily's eyes to look elsewhere. I repeated the fact that she left me, that she ran away from me because she couldn't understand why I was doing what I was. She didn't know what it was like to have power, to work for a cause and have a reward; she didn't know what it was like to **_**finally **_**not be invisible.**

"**Crucio," I repeated, watching her body twist in a form that could only mean anguish.**

**Time and time again, I said the curse; I watched her body become merely a crumpled heap at my feet. I wore the expression of someone who was remorseful. I could feel the way that my lips were pressed together, the knot that formed in my throat.**

**Her hand reached up, reaching for simply the sleeve of my jacket. "Severus, **_**please**_**," she whispered, finally catching my hand. Her grip showed how much she truly had endured. And for the first time, I had a thought that would've never crossed my mind at any other time. **_**I wish that you could be dead.**_

* * *

It escaped my mind until I finally came to consciousness, but when I did, I was screaming. There were no tears on my face, nor feelings of an open wound; it was just my yelling echoing off the walls, my hands shaking as they were curled in the sheets.

_It's a dream; only a dream. You have never hurt Lily._

Despite my mind knowing that I had never once placed a hex on her, I felt as though I had killed her myself. How could her hand feel so real in mine? How could her features look so realistic? Why was this dream occurring _now_?

My attention was caught to the doorway, where a small figure stood. I cast the spell of light, finding that once more, his expression was terrified. But this time, a few elements had changed; it was not that he was scared **of** me but **for** me.

I didn't look him in the eyes but he took my discomfort as an invitation; he crossed the room quickly, holding his arms up to me. I sighed, setting my wand aside, still with the concentration on the spell in my mind, and picked him up. I set him on the other side but he climbed into my lap, placing his head on my chest. Now, I was forced to control my heart rate as I held the fragile being. _I'm thankful that you understand boundaries __**so**_ _well._

I eventually held onto him, my gaze straight forward and blank. I could still hear her, even though it was not real, it had been.

My walls for Occlumency were placed up once more, my mind coming to ease. _Peace.. Finally._

Sleep evaded me for the rest of the night, something that I was somewhat grateful. Though my Occlumency was strong enough to withstand the Dark Magic that the Dark Lord performed, I still wasn't sure of my emotions. Though they were locked down, they were not secure, not quite yet.

There must have been something about the way I looked; Harry had once again attempted to comfort me, refusing to let me go until I had firmly demanded that he do so. I understood his attempt once I looked in the mirror; the face that looked back to me was not the same face that had been in the mirror the night before.

* * *

By the time Harry was nearing three, I had pushed aside my bitterness and decided on one thing: I wouldn't wait for Azkaban to abuse Sirius Black. After questioning him, I would torture him accordingly; he could tell everyone that Lily wasn't dead because of his decisions but he was lying to only himself. In the days following the visit, my bitterness would give me a new strength to wake up from my grief.

Not only was it my harbored hatred but every moment that I looked into his godson's eyes that made me crave for answers. There could've been two pairs of eyes in that elegant color of jade but there were not. They were Lily's eyes and hers only. It was also the way Harry smiled at me, as if he trusted me with his entire life; he undoubtedly believed that I was his father.

It was July 13th, only weeks before Harry would turn three. After packing a small portion of Felix Felicis, one which I was not entire sure was worth six months of brewing, I then pocketed my Veritaserum (something that had been a walk through flowers compared to "liquid luck"); it ensured me that Sirius would tell me the truth. Even if he did resist me, he could be sure that the Cruciatus Curse would be used on him. He was the one who caused me to be stuck with a little child.

"Lucan," I called from the kitchen, seeing the child lazily turn over in my chair. "It's time to get up."

He began to rub his eyes, yawning softly. "I don't want to, Poppy." He curled himself up once again, settling comfortably under his blanket. He'd been resistant to move after I was forced to read him a story before he fell asleep. His vision cut off from the world again as he closed his eyes, exhaling his weariness into the air.

In a fit of weakness, I almost let him stay; he looked so much like his mother when she had visited me on summer nights. When things at my house took the turn, I would go to her house, even in winter, on our Christmas break. Her parents seemed to like me but thought it was odd of who their daughter had chosen to be friends with. _**"You're friends with him? Lily, I understand he's a wizard as well but he's.. He's filthy."**_

Despite popular belief, I did take a shower (baths in the summer) every day. Why my hair was the way it was not only amazed me but bothered me at the same time. No matter how much I willed my teeth to straighten back in my adolescent years, they never did. They were put together almost sloppily, as if someone had run out of time when lining them in my gums.

Alas, I picked him up from the couch, feeling his head hit my shoulder lazily. "Your mother would've loved this," I mumbled, holding him carefully. "We'll first need to get you in the shower."

I'd grown accustomed to the days of _attempting_ to shower him; he always sat down and looked up to me with jade, green eyes, ones that still dared me to try to make him stand. Only once had I succeeded.

This morning was sure to be no different. His head still rested on my shoulder as I began to prepare him for the shower to come. "Lucan, it may have failed your mind to understand, but showers are better taken with your eyes open."

My words were lost to him as he moved his head, attempting to become more comfortable. He mumbled something, something inaudible but undoubtedly cheeky; he'd already learned the habit from me. _Or James._

I nearly dropped him at the thought, drawing a breath in before setting him against the wall of the bathroom. He began to tilt to the side, his eyes opening with the rush of his pulse. As I helped him get free of his shirt, he began to lean against me again, picking his legs up when it was time too.

Once more, he sat down in the shower, causing me to sigh but roll up my sleeves so that I would stay mostly dry. As the water came up about mid-forearm, I captured a glimpse of the vivid, red tattoo, almost as if someone had newly branded it into my skin; if I had not locked things away, I would've felt shame, remorse, but rather, I felt nothing at all.

Unfortunately, the process took longer than expected; had I not had Harry with me, I would've Apparated to the nearest location. I considered it for a few moments but decided against it. If it was painful for a wizard at the age of fifteen to sixteen, the effects on a child would be horrendous. Rather, I used another use of flight: unsupported flight. Though the talent was passed onto me by the Dark Lord himself, it was useful in times of dire need.

Holding Harry to my chest tightly, I became a whirl-wind of black smoke, only my face appearing occasionally to find the world once again. It was exhaustive, to go as many miles as I had and mumble the incantations over the prison to make it visible to my eyes.

The flight had no effect on Harry and ever so softly, I cursed his name for it. I felt slightly weak in the knees, mainly from the years of not practicing the act; however, the task at hand was far more important. So after setting Harry down and taking his hand, I took a drink of the "liquid luck," discarding it into my pocket before a man met us at the opening of the prison.

"Who are you?" he questioned, his eyes beginning to lose their harshness; the potion had been made correctly after all.

After a few moments, I gave him a closed- mouth smile, not bothering to have a shift in my tone. I had luck, after all. "Severus Snape; I'm here to see the prisoner Sirius Black."

"_**Sirius**_ _**Black**_?" the man echoed, his eyes widening slightly. "Now why on Earth would you want to see a man like him?"

Despite the protest of the idea, the door slid to the side, vanishing into the side panels for only a few moments; the moment that I had passed the threshold, a wind from behind me, managing to cut through my clothes and leave the hairs on my arm standing. _Ignorant fools, placing a prison out in the middle of the bloody ocean._

I turned to the guards, looking at them with an expectant expression. "Take me to him. I don't care if he's dangerous. I can handle myself; I expect to be let in the cell as well."

They nodded, clearly horrified at the thought. I found myself being horrified with them, but not for the same reasons. People, in all the cells, were scratching at the walls, attempting to exit the jail. One man's hands were nearly to the bone, but he kept scratching, no matter how much blood poured forth from his hands. His eyes were transfixed on the wall, as if it was his only savior.

An elevator, appearing like a cell, revealed itself when we reached the ninetieth cell. The descent was slow; the two floors passed by but those in the cells nearby were able to be seen, some of them nearly risking dismemberment to escape, even if it was one limb of themselves going elsewhere. I glanced down and Harry was watching, taking the sight of misery in.

"Don't look," I whispered softly, feeling his forehead press against my leg, his hand tightening its grip on mine. It felt unnatural, for him to be so reliant on me to protect me; I had only protected one who was in the Order and even then, they had doubted me and my motivation.

Eventually, the ride came to a stop and the doors peeled apart, allowing myself and Harry to step forth. The guard didn't move, nearly paralyzed once he saw the cell on the opposite wall; it contained a man, seemingly already thinning to nothing. The hair suggested that the man had attempted to tear it out and had only succeeded in making it messy. White and grey clothes hung loosely from his frame as he trembled, his pale fingers somehow managing to appear from under the dirt.

After taking in the shell of Sirius Black, I once again took a drink of "liquid luck" before pulling out the Veritaserum and clutching it tightly. "Is it safe to assume that this is more comfortable for you than the Order's headquarters?"

The sound of my voice sent his head turning into my direction, giving the impression that I had poisoned his food. Bags hugged under his eyes, his facial hair far outgrown from the times I had seen it in the past. The twitch at the side of his mouth reminded me of his hatred but bothered me little.

"What are doing here? Have you finally come to where you belong?" Sirius shot back, his eyes falling onto the boy that stood next to me. His pair of grey orbs shot back to me before he rose, the only thing holding him back was his chains. "Let go of my godson!"

_Your godson? You should've taken the idea into consideration when you had his parents murdered. _"I find that hard to believe; Lucan is my child and honestly, I can't stand you. Why would I make you his godfather?"

The door swung open, making me turn to Harry and bending down. I caught sight of a woman who motioned for the boy but rendered herself too scared to come near the cell. "Go to her, Lucan. She will care of you, I promise."

The toddler began his run, his plump legs nearly causing him to fall more than once. I stood fully once I saw that the woman had taken his hand and disappeared beyond the doors of the elevator once more. I made the motion for him to cover his eyes and instead, he closed them. _Already becoming rebellious, I see._

With Harry's absence, I turned to the man in the cell, noticing that he had taken a new expression. He shook with a fierce anger, his grey eyes darkened by his rage; he was already showing signs of his madness.

Sirius fought against the chains harshly, his teeth bared at me. "What have you done to him? I bet you've brainwashed him already; I told them-"

As quick as one could blink, my hand struck across his face, blood spilling from his mouth. I closed my eyes, tilting my head for a moment before taking a deep breath. "You will answer my questions and that will be all. You won't speak the of boy, nor will you speak of how close you were to the Potter's unless it is vital to the answer of the question. Do you understand?"

My hand held his jaw in my grip tightly, his lips parting from pain. The once capped potion was poured into his mouth, but only two drops; too much could cause instability in him. My palm moved to cover his lips, forcing him to swallow the potion.

Sirius' eyes widened, his features then becoming panicked. He stayed still but it was evident that he was far from being calm. "What are you doing to me?"

"Why did you turn in the Potter's to the Dark Lord? What did he offer you that was so great? What is worth the cost of your loyalty?" It was far too many questions at one time but there were too many questions unraveling in my head. He had to answer them correctly, unless his mind exceeded over what was normal for even those who had practiced their minds for years.

He shook his head madly, his pupils dilating for a few moments before gaining focus again. "He didn't offer me anything; my loyalty is just the same. I swear to it."

My palm met his face once again and I found it oddly better than having a wand. His head was bent towards his chest, saliva and blood mixing in an unsightly mixture. My hand found his hair and pulled his head so that he was looking at me, seeing my hatred at the most raw of forms. If I were animal, he would've been my prey now; his fragile body had given the sense that he would burn out quickly. His knees were already bending, shaking under the weight of himself.

"Don't lie to me." My tone was nearly as frigid as the air around us, proving that I was the exception to those who had pitied him. "I'm not going to let you twist my mind like you have everyone else. Tell me the truth!"

Sirius struggled, his face close to mine and his grey orbs narrowing in my direction. "You want the truth, you greasy- haired snake? Peter Pettigrew turned them in. That's right; that little rat betrayed the love of your life! What are you going to do about it, Snape? It's not like she love you anyway; in fact, she loathed you. She had every reason to after what you did to her! And had she not stood in James' way, he would've murdered you the second you walked through the doors of the Order. He should have. He might be alive, _**she**_ might be alive if he had."

I swallowed down the realization that I had not been wrong to think she hated me, that she could've possibly wanted me to die, just as James did. My jaw clenched and I decided that no matter how short the visit had been, no matter how long it could've been, it had been in vain.

"You lie, you flea- ridden, pathetic, traitor," I hissed, my eyes focused sharply on his; he looked as if he were going to burst. I backed away from him for a few steps before exiting the cell.

"Don't walk away from me!" he pleaded, his voice seeming to crawl from his throat with every last bit of raw emotion.

My eyes narrowed, my cheeks drawing in to hug my cheekbones slightly more than usual. "Save it for someone who believes you, Black. I'm going to let you die, just like you did to her. I _**hope**_ he comes for you; I _**hope**_ he knows that _you_ were too incompetent to escape. And I _**hope**_ he murders you like he should have so long ago."

His lips trembled, his body shaking with the new chill that came from the lack of heat in the prison; it was also the nearing Dementors, their essence promising to steal not only happiness but any hope of warmth. I gave him my best smile before walking away, my gaze fixated on the steps that I took next. As a woman came back with Harry, one final cry rang through the air.

"_**Snape**_!"

Each step I took became lighter, his voice still carrying throughout the jail. What care was I to give? He had let Lily die, had let his own friend die; and all he could focus on was getting to Harry, on unhinging me in every way that mattered. _You must be mad after all._

* * *

Though Harry went through his birthday in a blur, even to the months following, November sealed in the inevitable stroke of loneliness. It blew the last hope of companionship away as I was to settle myself down and focus on what kind of teacher I was to become, how I would act towards the children.

I decided that it was most likely in their best interest that I become a ruthless teacher, to grade as if they were on the same intellectual level as I was at their age. The seventh years would undoubtedly hate me with as much as they would have to study. It wouldn't be too much of a bother; I wasn't there for their entertainment.

I purchased the text books of which I would be teaching out of, from the first year to the seventh year. Any time that was free from Harry's presence was spent replicating potions, figuring the outcome should a student fail a step. Needless to say, not many students would be allowed to continue potions past their sixth year, should I have any say in it.

Being as it was the near beginning of December when I had reached near the back of the seventh year's book, I stood with my nose in the book, hovering over the cauldron. Just below me, the potion turned green, signalling for the next ingredient. As my hand went about its search, I noticed that it had been spilt. I shook my head, looking about for a moment. _Surely I wasn't that distracted._

After bending down to pick up supplies that could only now be discarded, I heard the small but rapid footsteps coming down the hall. Harry stood in the doorway of my study, watching me with wide, green eyes.

For a moment, I thought selfishly; I thought about sending him away to be alone so that I could at least join him in that aspect. However, I motioned for him to come forward, scooping him so that he sat on my left arm. I set aside the ingredients in my hand before pouring fresh ones in.

As the potion began to turn blue, I saw the reflections on the surface, one youthful and still untouched, while the one next to it, my reflection, was simply weary, drained..

_If I had only seen myself here, of all places, all those years ago._


End file.
